We Can Be Heroes
by OptimisticLady
Summary: "Though nothing, nothing will keep us together / We can beat them, for ever and ever /Oh we can be Heroes, just for one day." The Doctor and David Bowie had a lifelong friendship; Twelve realises that a final visit is in order, and a request needs to be fulfilled.


11th January 2016.

Even though it had happened on the 10th January 2016, the news took quite some time to reach the Doctor. Then again with the life he led, it could be hard to get hold of him sometimes. It didn't come in a phone call. It didn't come in a video message. The news had spread across the universe, through crimson stars and golden nebulas, travelled between planets young and old, finally catching up with the Doctor after his usual bout of running.

"Doctor… there's something you need to know," said Yarik, the thin yellow man who's city the Doctor had been helping out.

"You're not seriously going to drag me back in there, are you?" he groaned in response. "I've had enough politics to last me a life time, thanks very much." He rolled his eyes and made to go into the TARDIS, when Yarik's next words stopped him.

"The Starman. He's… he's passed on. From something called 'cancer.' I don't know what that is, but the Starman is gone. Some say he's returned home."

The Doctor faltered in the doorway of his blue box. He nodded curtly and stepped inside the box, his limbs suddenly lacking the need to move at a normal speed. He just about managed to kick the door shut as he sluggishly made his way to the console before his knees gave out and he was slumped against it, shaking his head.

 _No no no no no…_ he thought. _How?_

There had been something about him – something about Ziggy, the Starman, David, the Thin White Duke, whatever name he was known by (the Doctor preferred to call him Ziggy) – that made him think that he would just… live on forever. He'd never felt that about someone before. Ziggy had made the whole world believe – the whole _universe_ – believe that he was going to be here forever.

Was this more painful than a regular death? Perhaps. The Doctor had long forgotten that Ziggy was human. Humans were volatile, they could… they could die… why did he have to forget that about Ziggy? It still didn't seem right. He remembered being there when Ziggy wasn't even known as Ziggy and was recording _Space Oddity._ The Doctor's fourth body had spent a lot of time with Ziggy himself, and every body after that had spent some time with Ziggy.

He remembered how Ziggy had wanted to travel with him when he was big ears and leather. It hadn't been the right time then. Ziggy'd been angry, thinking it unfair he was only being given small teasers for a little bit of adventure, but he still kept the Doctor's nature hidden. Never told his loving family that one of his closest friends was actually an alien – if the media had found out, then that would have been quite the story. Everyone would have believed that Ziggy was an alien too.

The TARDIS whirred in an attempt to comfort him, and the Doctor looked up, a little smile coming to his face. He finally rose from the floor and dusted himself off. An idea had popped into his head.

"Ziggy played guitar indeed."

He flew around the console, pulling levers and pushing buttons and then he was off to New York a few weeks earlier. Ziggy had given him the address of his home there, just in case the Doctor ever changed his mind.

He parked a block away and walked, shades on and guitar in hand. It didn't matter that it was winter.

When he got there, he was surprised to see that Ziggy himself answered the door; not that he was recognised.

The Doctor dipped his shades a moment to survey his old friend; there was a chance that his last visit may have occurred when he had the chin…

"It's me," he winked at Ziggy and pushed his shades back up the bridge of his nose. A wide, toothy grin cracked out on Ziggy's face, a smile that lit up his un-identical eyes and suddenly the Doctor was being pulled in for a hug.

The Doctor didn't do hugs that much, but Ziggy deserved one. He deserved more.

"I've been waiting for you," Ziggy told him, breaking away from him and gesturing for his friend to come in. "Where's the chin gone?"

"Needed something more mature." The Doctor shrugged, now following Ziggy through his house and towards a study on the ground floor. He couldn't help but noticed how tired Ziggy seemed to be.

"You certainly look the part," Ziggy chuckled. "Oh! Do you want a cuppa?"

"No, thank you."

They both settled themselves into cosy armchairs, Ziggy clearly admiring the guitar that the Doctor had.

"Never knew you played."

"You inspired me..." the Doctor muttered, finally taking off his ridiculous sunglasses. A solemn look flashed across his face briefly, but Ziggy caught it.

"I think I know why you're here," he said slowly.

"Ziggy–"

He laughed. "Even now you still call me that silly name! I'm just David now. Ziggy was a long time ago..."

"I'll need something new for you. David's boring."

"But David made Space Oddity."

"True."

"If you really want to call me something, you can go for Lazarus. Or Blackstar."

The Doctor couldn't smile. He couldn't smile like Ziggy was smiling.

"I've got it all planned out," Ziggy began to explain. "I'm releasing the album around my birthday. I can hold on until then."

That sentence made the Doctor's hearts flutter in the worst way possible. Of course Ziggy would make art out of his death. He was too clever for his own good – perhaps sometimes cleverer than himself. Not that the Doctor would ever admit that out loud.

"You made an impact across the universe, you know," the Doctor pointed out to him. Ziggy smirked.

"Well, when one sings about spiders from mars, the idea of a Starman waiting for them in the sky… of course I would. I didn't want that. I didn't want that success, you know?"

"Then what did you want?"

"I wanted to do something artistically important. And I did. Success was just a by-product." Ziggy was smiling again. The Doctor still couldn't bring himself to do it either. "So. You're here because you know when it happens. You're here to jam with me."

He was staring at the guitar, and only now did the Doctor smile.

"Well that… but..." he sighed, and rose from his seat, pacing about the room and occasionally strumming on his guitar. "I was wrong not to take you to one place with me... I should have done it back when I was all leather, big ears and that Northern accent."

He stopped and turned to look back at Ziggy. Something lit up in his eyes; it was a look that the Doctor recognised all too well within his usual companions. The bright spark, that thirst for at least one adventure. Ziggy stood up too, and approached the Doctor.

"What are you asking me?" He didn't need the Doctor to say it, but he wanted him to. He wanted it to be set in stone. He wanted it to be _real._

"David… I'm asking if you'd like to be a hero. Just for one day."

* * *

 **R.I.P David Bowie.**

 **I remember Peter Capaldi saying in an interview that he would have loved for David Bowie to be on the show, and that would have been amazing. I wrote this because... I love Bowie. I love Doctor Who. There's so many great things that could have been done with the Doctor/Bowie combination. I didn't write out the adventure they shared that was relevant to this, because the last line was poignant. You can imagine what they did together.**

 **I hope you enjoyed. This was hard to write, hence why I kept it short. Leave a comment, please?**

 **-OL.**


End file.
